


Stephen Tries Seduction (with Lace)

by williamastankova



Category: XO - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: EVERYBODY SHARE BEDS, I can never get enough of sharing beds, M/M, Sharing beds, lol, mature but not really, theres no terms used that are really inappropriate, this is like, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 16:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14815289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/williamastankova/pseuds/williamastankova
Summary: Stephen stays at Will's, and they share Will's bed because the floor is uncomfortable, and so is the couch. It seems the most natural thing to do, and after all: the best things happen in the dark...





	Stephen Tries Seduction (with Lace)

It was an accident, really. It wasn't an accident in that Stephen had come over and Will had invited him to share his double bed rather than have him on the floor, but what followed was a complete and utter accident. Then again, the word 'accident' connotes that recalling the event brought back some feeling of guilt or remorse, which it absolutely did not. In fact, even days later, Will couldn't keep his mind off of it, and he even found himself wishing for it to happen again - and that it did. But first of all, the recollection of occurence:

As mentioned prior, Stephen had come over for the weekend for an event, so he had asked Will if he could stay at his flat as opposed to spending money unnecessarily on a hotel. Will, of course, obliged, telling him that his home was virtually always open for him, should he need it, and to not worry about asking, because his answer would almost always be yes. He even added that, should Stephen prefer, he could share Will's bed, seeing as both the floor and the couch were uncomfortable to sleep on overnight (he knew from past experience), and he would even go as far as to say the former was more comfortable than the latter, for reasons unbeknownst to Will. Either way, Stephen thanked him sincerely, and their conversation ended. A day later, Stephen arrived at Will's front door, and the night began.

For the most part, nothing much happened. As usual, they discussed some things, cracked some jokes, proposed some ideas, and sat in complete silence, on their phones. Of course, being such good friends, it wasn't awkward, and whenever they scoffed at something on their timeline, they leaned over to show the other what it was that made them laugh aloud. In all fairness, though it was uneventful, Will had to admit it was one of the more enjoyable evenings he had had in a while, and at the point he made this observation the best things hadn't happened yet. Eventually, Stephen announced his tiredness and retired to bed - Will's bed - and thanked him yet again for letting him stay. He half-jokingly promised to only take up "his side of the bed", and Will let out a bemused exhale in response, then sitting for half an hour or so scroling through various social media platforms, not doing much at all, until he, too, had to admit he was beginning to feel drowsy. In a semi-defeated state, he made his way to the bathroom to complete his nightly routine, changing into some baggy bottoms and a thin t-shirt, then making his way into the bedroom. As anticipated, it was pitch black (Will knew Stephen couldn't sleep properly otherwise, and he would need his energy the next day for the event he was attending), and so Will didn't bother turning on the light; he just deftly shuffled his way onto the bed and clambered under the covers, where he could instantly feel Stephen's body radiating immense amounts of heat. Will let out a noise - not quite irritated, but one that helped prepare him for the night ahead, where he may very well wake up in a pool of his own sweat. Regardless, he shut his eyelids, not making a difference how much he could see, and let his mind go quiet. After brushing his teeth and such, he found himself a little more awake, though he supposed that feeling would soon dissipate, and he would be soundly asleep in next to no time. That was how it always went, with him at least, throughout his life, and what was to make tonight any different?

Minutes past, definitely over ten, maybe nearing fifteen, when he felt incapable of staying in the same position. With Stephen - actual human radiator - so close to him, he had already begun to become hot, and when this happened the best thing to do was to change your position, and so he did. From lying on his back, he rolled onto his right side, so he would be facing presumably the back of Stephen's head, if he was able to see. Then again, what with how long he had been submerged in the blackness, by now he would be able to see somewhat, so he probably could check if he was right, if he really wanted to. More than this, though, he knew he should stop his wandering mind before he found himself awake at four in the morning, listening to the birds chirping, as he had so many times before. One of these days, he would sort out his sleeping schedule. Most likely, probably not.

In a sudden spike of annoyance at the temperature, he jerked his arm up to put it underneath his head, though as he did so he brushed against something he shouldn't have - shouldn't have for many reasons. Firstly, he knew instantly it was Stephen's bum, but then, secondly, he also thought he recognised the feeling of... lace, adorning it. No, he shook his head slightly in the darkness, against his will, he had to be wrong, surely. There was no way Stephen was in his bed, right at that moment, wearing fucking lacy knickers, like it was nothing. Actually, it wasn't the fact he was wearing them in his bed, it was the fact he was wearing them. For some inexplicable reason, he grew even hotter at the thought, and was completely incapable of ridding himself of the image of Stephen in red lace, and then the heat only worstened, turning from the semi-innocent image to one of him in boots, sitting on Will's lap - no, something else --

His hand was confused. When it had hit his rump by accident, it had frozen, pulled away an inch, and remained paralysed thereafter. Now Will had regained some control over his mind, it still refused to listen to him order it, tell it to move away, to return to his hip or to press against the mattress - anything, really, but stay near Stephen's bum. In fact, it had apparently grown a mind of its own, as it extended his finger and started reaching out, seeking the lace once more, for a reason Will did not know. Feeling this, but being at its whim, he could do nothing but mentally cry out for it to stop, to think more clearly about what it was doing before it was too late, but then it was too late, and his fingertips were once more upon the fabric, only now it was intentional, somewhat. Though Will had not intended to do it, he wasn't pulling away dramatically, now that he knew he still had his sense of touch. No, now he was feeling the material, rubbing at it gently, like the wind blows the hair of a Disney princess in the movies, and he liked it. His body liked it so much, in fact, that he began to feel it reacting to it, and he almost couldn't stop himself, until he could. Now sensing how much danger he was in of losing control entirely, he yanked his hand back and made it fall to the warm mattress a few inches away from the near-enough crimescene, and he tried to still his breathing. What had he just done? That was by far the creepiest, most disgusting thing he had ever done to a friend - no, to anybody - in his lifetime. He should leave now, sleep on the couch, far away from Stephen, and come up with an elaborate alibi the next morning to not arouse suspicion on either side. Yes, he would do that. He was just about to command his legs to move slowly away when:

"Will?"  
His heartbeat quickened once more. Stephen was awake. He had been awake the entire time, and he now hated Will forever. Sheepishly, he replied, "Yeah?"  
Stephen swallowed, then said, "Can you... can you do that again?"  
Will's ears began ringing, clearly trying to clear themselves of whatever was clogging them. Earwax had evidently made him mishear things, because rather than 'I hate you, let's never speak again' he had heard that, and that just wasn't right. No, no way. "What?"  
"Can you touch me again, like that?" Stephen repeated. This time Will knew it wasn't his imagination. This was real; Stephen wanted this.

Wordlessly, Will reached out his hand again, even more cautiously this time, like Stephen was made of glass and that he might shatter under his touch, should he be too rough with him. After what seemed like an eternity, Will's hand breached Stephen's side of the bed once more, and then landed on his hip soon after. He felt a small wiggle from his pelvis as he did so, and this made Will relax a little. He even shifted his position, so that his eyes were open, having adjusted to the darkness, and he rested his head on his bent elbow, meaning he was sat up and therefore had a wonderful view of Stephen, now. He could see how dissheveled his hair was, and how the curves of the body parts under the duvet made it stand up higher than the rest. He could see the look painted on the visible side of his face: how agonising Will's slow touches were for him, how his face crumpled when Will's hand stopped experimentally, and then how his mouth fell open when he neared the front of the underwear. It was beautiful.

Will's outlook changed, however, when his elbow slipped accidentally, having been teetering over to look at more of Stephen's face, and his hand suddenly went further than it had before, touching the bulging fabric at the front. Stephen's mouth, already partially open, dropped, and emitted the highest-pitched moan Will had ever heard come from an adult male, ever. With this sound, Stephen's hips thrust forward, actually going away from Will's hand, which the latter thought was probably the opposite of what it was intended to do, inherently. Despite this, Will somehow managed to keep his composure, enjoying messing with Stephen a little too much to give in so early, even if the noise he had just made was the hottest thing he had ever heard, ever. Rather than taking Stephen right there and then, he shuffled closer, revelling a little in the sound of the covers shifting as he did so, for he knew what he intended to do next. Once at a comfortable distance - so his crotch was just an inch or two away from Stephen's clothed behind - he tipped his fingers minutely, so that instead of his fingertips brushing against the lace, it was his nails. After doing so, he tantilisingly began tracing patterns - swirls, mainly - onto the fabric, and then eventually - most slowly of all - onto Stephen's belly, following his happy trail, leading to his naval. This clearly was too much for him, as he cried out - legitimately cried out, so Will thought it possible Alex could hear upstairs - and began shifting his legs impatiently, making small, rhythmless whimpers as he did so. Will smirked, and hatched the plan he had been waiting to excecute the entire time.

Dropping the nice, delicate act that he knew had been driving Stephen borderling crazy, he moved his hand from Stephen's belly to just above his left knee - the leg on top - on the inside, and sharply pulled upwards, simultaneously pushing his body forwards against Stephen's behind, causing his right leg to slip out from under him, forcing him onto his front. When Will had finished this move, Stephen continued his noises, only this time his movements with his crotch became even more desperate, to the point he was literally dry-humping Will's mattress in agitation. This, even just in itself, made Will grin wider, knowing he had Stephen right where he wanted him. Now he was confident in this, he started leisurely rolling his hips forward, grinding into Stephen in a way he knew would break him. Proving him correct, Stephen broke out into cries that got louder each and every time Will moved his hips, without fail. When he proceeded to erupt into a whispered stream of curse words, Will took it upon himself to show him both how bad doing such a thing was, and how much he liked it by nudging his head a little to the side and nipping at his neck, stopping every few to suck lightly, knowing he could be leaving a mark on any of them, and not caring one little bit. He wanted everybody to know about the conquest of that night: how he bedded Stephen Tries, and then properly bedded Stephen Tries. Though they would not hear the sounds he made exactly, he liked to imagine them picturing them, trying to think what it must have sounded like, and acknowledging in defeat that it was not them who reduced Stephen to that, but rather him. WIll had him like that; Will had him like no other. He bit down harder, then let go, smirking silently to himself.

Stephen's head fell back unannounced, the curses stopping, but his breath never stilling. For a moment, Will admittedly thought he may have fallen asleep, though this theory was quickly - and thankfully - disproved when a snap of his hips brought Stephen back up to his prior state, and even more yet, with curses, breathing, humming, the lot. Will listened deeply to this, feeling his own end nearing, and wanting that to be his focus, not other people and their thoughts on what was happening in that moment. Not realising he had shut his eyes soon after he had began thrusting, Will peeled open his eyelids so he could see Stephen in all of his glory. He admired how his skin still managed to look perfectly porcelain, even in such a dark room, and he noticed for the first time how long and luscious his eyelashes were. He looked at his nose, and being able to look so long and hard at it, saw the fairy-dust freckles dotted there, across the bridge of his nose, extending a couple of inches onto his cheeks and forehead before vanishing entirely. For the first time that night, it hit Will like a tidal wave that he wanted to kiss Stephen. Not to bite his lips, or feign romance so he could tease him some more, but because he wanted to taste him - to worship him, and all he was. With this thought in mind, though knowing he could not kiss his lips with their current position, nor could he move them through being so close to release, he settled instead for putting both hands on Stephen's waist, after some strategic maneouvering, and then built on working towards his orgasm, chasing it madly in the end. As he finshed, unco-ordinated and starry-eyed, he clenched his fingers, digging his nails into Stephen's sides unintentionally as he did so. This, apparently, did it for Stephen, who only took one of two more dizzying thrusts to finish, crying out Will's name unashamedly as he did so.

Will let Stephen go and fell onto his back, a little stricken by what had just happened, though experiencing no negative emotions whatsoever. He was only drawn back into the real world when Stephen's hands - now feeling weirdly cold, having been out of the blanket, clutching at the bed - came to rest on his chest. Looking down at them, he saw Stephen looking up at him through thick eyelashes, eyes drooping slightly with whatever the aftermath of lust was called. Will couldn't help but beam upon seeing Stephen still so eager to be near him, telling him 'what had just transpired was more than okay' without words. He made to speak, but was beat to the chase by Stephen.  
"That was good, but next time, we're doing anal." He said cheekily, clearly teasing Will but also with a glint of seriousness in his eyes that made Will's heart jump. Next time!  
"Agreed." Will's voice was surprisingly crackly, but he didn't make to clear it. He liked how husky it made him sound, and secretly hoping Stephen did, too.

Stephen's eyes fell shut, though his head remained tilted up at Will, so the latter could keep on admiring the former's face whilst he rested, without falling asleep quite yet. He one again saw the beauty in Stephen's freckles, in his strong bone structure, his carving-knife cheekbones, but none of these were his focal point now. No, now all he could see - could comprehend - was Stephen's lips, pursed and inviting, calling to him in a sweet, melodic hum. Surely, he deliberated internally, after what had just happened, Stephen wouldn't mind a kiss? Hopefully, he would even enjoy it, but Will didn't want to get his hopes up too much. After all, he concluded, there was only one way to find out, and so he made for it.

He tipped Stephen's head up just a little with the hand that wasn't underneath him, and leaned in, closing the gap between them quicker than he had intended to. Much to his surprise, almost the millisecond their lips touched, Stephen's hand shot up to thread into Will's hair, and he kissed him back sweetly. Stephen tasted to Will like Christmastime, as odd as it sounded to say in his head, though he reasoned this was most likely his toothpaste acting as a conductor of his thought train, its mintiness leading him to think of candy canes. Then again, it didn't really matter exactly what he tasted, smelt, or felt like, he finally settled on, because as long as he was here, in that moment, beside Stephen, tasting and feeling him, he had an eternity to identify exactly what it was. It was the action itself that mattered most, and so he fell into the kiss, extending it for as long as humanely possible, before Stephen pulled away to breathe and speak.  
"It's about fucking time," he breathed, smiling up at Will. And yes, it was. It was about fucking time.

**Author's Note:**

> it's 2am again lmao, but here's some smutti smut. I do love these boys <33 @@@@


End file.
